When The Morning Comes
by ThePeetaBread
Summary: The morning after Emily and Alison's night together in 5x05


When Emily first wakes, she wonders why her mattress is so soft and why her sheets are so thin and why her mother isn't ushering her up and out of bed.

It takes her less than a few seconds to realize where she is, in Alison's room, in Alison's bed and wrapped up naked in Alison's sheets. Everything comes flooding back to her in flashes of lips and skin and heat and the way Ali's body had curved into her and under her and in every way Emily had always dreamed of.

She grasps at the sheets next to her; still not entirely certain she's not dreaming and looks over to Ali, face down and clothed with a sheet that barely covers her from the hips down.

Emily turns on her side and pulls the bed sheets up to her chin, eyes roaming the curves and plains of Ali's back. Ali's asleep – Emily thinks, lying on her stomach, blonde curls spilling onto her bare back and breathing lightly and steadily, reminding Emily that she's alive and she's here and she isn't going anywhere soon.

Emily's head is spinning; and she's unsure if it's a good or bad thing – the details of the night before seem so surreal she's not sure if she's mixed them with dreams or not, only that the way Ali had been with her, all lips and tongue and roaming hands was better than anything she could have dreamed.

She turns slowly, glancing around the room for her shirt but to no avail; their clothes are scattered across the room in the way they had been ripped off; desperately and fervidly, in a lust filled haze.

Emily knows for a fact that her bra is ruined; Ali had almost torn it completely in two in her impatience to get Emily out of it – something Emily would have cared a lot more about at the time had Ali not had a hand shoved down her pants.

With a defeated sigh, she gives up on her hunt for clothes and instead turns back to Ali, quietly taking her in. She doesn't know quite how she expected to feel, only this isn't it; she's dreamed of this moment so many times that the reality feels foreign to her – she expects to feel a sense of euphoria but it never comes, only doubt and fear and uncertainty. What if Alison wakes up and tells her it was a mistake? What if Alison is just messing with her like all those times before? What if this is all some twisted joke Alison helmed to prove she still had some sort of control over her?

The more Emily thinks the uneasier she feels, the more each kiss they had shared starts to feel false. She briefly contemplates taking something from Ali's dresser and leaving immediately but the bed beneath her starts to shift, and Emily's heart sinks into a panic as she realizes Ali is waking.

Alison stirs, and Emily watches as she awakens, crinkling her nose and rubbing at her eyes. Emily stays silent as Alison's eyes focus on her, bleary, before she smiles tiredly, and resettles onto her pillow.

"Hi,"

"Hi,' Emily answers softly and exhales slightly, losing her thoughts to the sight of Ali bunched up in nothing but sheets.

Ali shifts closer and Emily's heart is pounding so loudly she's almost positive Alison can hear it. She looks into Ali's eyes, trying to catch any sort of regret but Ali just blinks back sweetly at her, her lips curling into a bashful smile.

Ali's smile gives her butterflies like it always has, but everything about this feels like it's too good to be true.

She's never been great at hiding her emotions and so she knows Ali can see the worry all over her face, "Are you okay?" Alison asks softly, her smile slipping off her face and her eyebrows creasing.

She seems soft, sincere, the kind of Ali that only ever exists when they're together, alone like this. Emily wants so desperately to believe that this side of Ali is legitimate but the uneasiness in her stomach doesn't settle, and she looks at Alison blankly, saying nothing.

Alison frowns and shifts closer, until their forearms are touching and Emily's close enough to make out the freckles dotted down Ali's nose. Ali reaches forward to touch Emily's face lightly.

"I meant what I said last night," Alison says softly, her eyes warm, "I love you,"

Her fingers brush against Emily's cheek and earnest is a characteristic so foreign on Ali that Emily's breath gets caught in her throat. She opens her mouth to speak but she can't quite manage the words, her heart fluttering with both love and mistrust, completely unsure of when the two melded together so easily.

Ali watches her carefully, her eyes creased with uncertainty, "Em," She urges, tilting Emily's jaw gently, "What's wrong?"

Emily looks at her searchingly, looking for any sign of dishonesty in Ali's features. Ali's eyebrows are drawn tight and the blue of her eyes more open and vulnerable than Emily's even known them to be. Ali is concerned but there is no hint of deceit and so Emily relaxes slightly, leaning into Ali's hand.

"Nothing," She says finally, "I'm just hungry"

Alison looks unconvinced.

"You don't…" She pauses, her brow furrowing like she's struggling to find the words, "…regret what we did last night do you?"

Emily thinks back to last night; to having every inch of Ali pressed against her, Ali's lips ghosting down her neck, Ali pressing her down into the mattress, Ali whimpering into her mouth. She shakes her head quickly, "No," She says honestly, brushing her hand over Ali's for reassurance, "I don't regret it"

The relieved smile Alison tries (and fails) to conceal is enough to convince Emily she made the right decision. Happiness swells in the pit of her stomach as Alison loops their fingers together, "I'll make you breakfast," Ali says softly, her eyes twinkling, "Are blueberry pancakes still your favourite?"

Emily nods, and Ali smiles magnificently and Emily lets Ali lead her downstairs, lets Ali kiss her through blueberries and syrup, lets Ali's hands wander and her robe to be pulled open until they're both breathing heavily and Ali's fingers are disappearing into places much too inappropriate for the kitchen.

Emily pulls back and looks into Ali's eyes, bright and blue and runs a finger along her cheek; if Ali's playing with her, she thinks it might destroy her. But Ali's hands grip at her waist, desperate and needy, her eyes open and urgent, locked to Emily's lips and Emily knows she has to take the chance.

Emily kisses her again, and Ali clutches to her like she's her lifeline.


End file.
